"Hehe, it's just like the fate bitch predicted."

The words left his lips lightly as he strolled through the crowded corridors of the hunter shop. A tall young man with snow white hair moved with unhurried steps, his eyes pale and strange, as though a ticking clock lived behind them. Every turn he took felt deliberate, as if the path itself had already been chosen for him.

"Naturally, the so called goddess of fate is quite a force to be reckoned with," the man beside him replied.

He wore an all black suit that hugged his frame neatly, a large watch hanging from his neck like a ceremonial charm. Its glass face glinted faintly as they walked, keeping time with their measured pace.

The issue of the great star had long been escalated within the company. Relevant authorities had been alerted, meetings held behind sealed doors, plans refined and rewritten. Methods of locating and executing him were already in motion, cold and methodical.

Yet every time those plans neared completion, Inkous appeared.

It was never loud or public, just a subtle derailment at the most crucial moment. A hidden conflict that existed beneath layers of paperwork and silence, known only to a few who mattered.

Thankfully, the old fool had been stranded on Galafray.

With him out of reach, interference was no longer a concern. Confident in that absence, they finally sent out a force.

"Hm? Master Rosac, long time no see."

Reaching the concealed room beneath the shop, the two young men from Weavetech came to a halt. Their expressions softened into polite, almost playful smiles as the hidden door slid shut behind them.

"What do you guys want?"

From behind a cluttered desk, a man wearing a ski mask leaned back in his chair. His leather trench coat creaked as it pressed against the worn material, the sound sharp in the otherwise quiet room.

"Ah, nothing much," the leader replied casually. "We came to pay a visit. Sell some stuff. Buy some stuff."

Rosac stared at them in silence.

He was a Tyrant. A direct member of the Hunter Alliance and a name that carried weight wherever it was spoken. As a supervisor, he had the authority to call reinforcements at any moment, a privilege few dared to provoke.

"Is that why you're in my office?" Rosac said flatly. "Please leave."

His frown deepened as he waved them off, already dismissing their flimsy excuses. If they had been any stronger, alarms would have been raised the moment they entered the city. The great star boy would never have been allowed this deep otherwise.

"No," the white haired man said softly. "We can't leave just yet."

His smile did not fade as his eyes locked onto Rosac.

"Our master requires that we leave a message with the great star."

This naturally caused the supervisor to frown. They had just disobeyed a direct order from him, and that was ballsy even for Weavetech.

"Fine, but it better be something important," Rosac finally said, his voice tight as he allowed the three to step fully into his office.

At first glance, Enzo frowned.

A faint supernatural glow clung to the three visitors, subtle yet unmistakable. It was the mark of gods, blessings layered onto flesh and soul. Among them all, however, one presence stood far above the rest.

"Great star, impressive," the young man with clock like eyes said calmly, his gaze sweeping over Enzo from head to toe.

Enzo radiated divinity as well, but it was different. Fragmented. Overlapping. Not bound to a single concept.

Five?

The young man's smile deepened. Enzo carried divine traces from entirely different authorities, braided together in a way that made his skin prickle. It was rare. Dangerous. Fascinating.

"Speak and get out," Rosac snapped, his words dripping like venom. He hated this. The audacity. The way his office had been turned into a stage.

It was disrespectful.

"Okay," the leader said lightly. "Lord Danz says you killed his nephew. He wants you dead, so keep running. High Lord Exos says if you're willing to join the company, he'll help you solve your issues. And Lord Red Head says he'll pay you a visit one of these days. Says it's been too long."

The words flowed without pause, each sentence heavy, yet spoken as casually as market gossip. Threats, offers, and promises tangled together, leaving an unsettling silence behind.

"I don't know any of these people," Enzo said, shaking his head.

Lord Danz rang faintly. Fort Marie. A young master. That much made sense. The rest meant nothing to him.

"You don't have to know them," the young man replied. "They know you."

His clock like eyes flared, the invisible hands spinning clockwise before slowing, then stopping.

He stepped forward and released an imprint toward Enzo's forehead.

It was not lethal. Just a mark. A tether meant to make tracking easier.

Yet Enzo vanished.

In the blink of an eye, he reappeared beside Rosac, untouched, expression unchanged.

The frozen moment shattered. Time resumed its flow, and Rosac's eyes widened as he registered Enzo's new position.

Without hesitation, he roared, "You are expelled for thirty days!"

The words carried authority beyond sound. Power ripped through the air, wrapping around the intruders like invisible chains.

In an instant, the world twisted.

They vanished from the office and reappeared outside the hunter shop, the door slamming shut behind them as if nothing had ever happened.

"Annoying brats," Master Rosac muttered, his brow creasing with frustration. The fact that the young man had managed to move right in front of him left a sour taste in his mouth.

He turned back to Enzo, clearing his throat. "Are you fine? I hope he didn't imprint on you?" There was a hint of embarrassment in his voice.

"No, he didn't," Enzo replied, nodding before bowing slightly in thanks.

He had moved on instinct alone. His blood carried a naturally high resistance to tracking. After killing two gods within their own domains, he had gained the ability to nullify their powers to a certain extent, especially effects tied to authority and marks.

"Good," Rosac said, giving a firm nod.

"They're still hanging around," he continued. "You can stay in the building as long as you want, or you can call an enforcer to boot them out of the city. Your master Inkous is under Gaia's protection now, so he should still have some pull."

"I understand," Enzo replied. "I still need to exchange my game for time, so I'll be here for a minute."

He bowed again, preparing to leave, but Rosac's voice stopped him.

"Game? You're here to sell?" the supervisor asked, his eyes sharpening.

Enzo simply nodded.

Rosac's expression shifted instantly, a wide grin spreading across his face. "In that case, I'll have our personal enforcer chase those bastards out of the city."

He raised his hand and made a quick signaling motion, sending out a silent order.

Until now, he had limited himself to protection. Alliance rules were strict. However, the moment a hunter conducting business was threatened, his authority expanded without restriction.

Now he had every reason to act.

Within seconds, movement rippled through the area. Men slipped out from shops, pubs, and entertainment rooms one after another, their gazes locking onto the lingering Weavetech employees as they closed in.

"Oh," Enzo said softly, completely oblivious to the unfolding chaos.

He followed Master Rosac deeper into the building as if nothing unusual was happening at all.

.

.

.

.

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""There are at least seven boxes of great terror materials here, and the terrors are all within the twenties. This is very impressive," Rosac said, genuine praise slipping into his voice as Enzo pulled one item after another from the void coffin.

Claws, cores, plated hide, crystallized organs. Each piece landed carefully, arranged with deliberate care.

"Ah yes," Enzo replied with a small smile. "I exchanged a lot of them a while back, but the number isn't that different."

There was a hint of pride in his expression. Though compared to his current level it felt smaller than it once did, it was still proof of effort. Proof of battles survived and victories earned.

"Most of these are native to Defi, so they're quite rare here," the attendant said, eyes shining. "Let me check the going rates. I'll get back to you."

He practically ran from the room, already calculating numbers in his head. This was a massive sale. The commission alone would be absurd.

"You're good at this," Rosac said, lowering himself onto one knee to inspect the materials more closely. "Who's your mentor?"

His fingers hovered over the cuts without touching. The precision was flawless. No unnecessary damage. No torn essence. Preserving primary materials like this was difficult even for veterans.

"Master?" Enzo echoed softly. "In hunting? Master Seth. He's one of the vice regents of the Dual Moon Institute."

He spoke casually, as if the name carried no weight.

The room went quiet.

Rosac slowly looked up at him, confusion spreading across his face.

"Seth isn't dead?"

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